Broken
by day dreaming dreamer
Summary: "His body wracks with sobs and tears that he smothers back. He doesn't need their pity. He doesn't want to see all their eyes shine with that emotion. He doesn't want Takigawa to lay a hesitant hand on his shoulder, with the purpose of steadying his trembling frame. He detests the idea of Mai looking at him like he's broken." -Complete-
1. Children

**In response to Snavej's angst week prompts!  
Warning: These won't be happy. Like, at all.**

 **Angst Week:**

 _"An Angel in the book of life wrote down my babies birth. Then whispered as she closed the book, 'Too beautiful for Earth.'"_

 **Chapter One: Children**

* * *

Luella Davis' day had started off usual enough.

She had finished a paper that needed to be written, with unfound haste and a sense that something wasn't quite right. She felt like she was possibly forgetting something, or that the sense of forgetfulness would turn into something much worse. Brushing the new found feeling aside, she accompanied her husband for breakfast, and kissed him goodbye when he left for one of his business trips. She let out an exasperated sigh after closing the door behind him, and returning to the empty house that had somehow been embedded within her. It seemed nowadays Martin was always leaving from one place to another, not often home or around, in spite of her condition. Her stomach had a small bulge, and she ran a hand fondly over the ball that was now her stomach.

A boy. She could just feel it.

She would tell him in a few days. They had been trying for quite some time, and she knew that he was disappointed with the lack of news. He buried himself in his work, the disappointment and anger always marring his once perfect face. She knew he didn't blame her. He blamed himself. He was reclusive now. Cold and untouchable. Every display of affection from her was met with rejection and the closing of another door. When he finally came home, often in the midst of night from another late night at work, he smelled of expensive perfume and disgrace.

(She also had a hunching suspicion that those business trips weren't really business trips at all.)

Somehow, however, she buried that theory into the darkest corner of her mind and busied herself away with cleaning and work.

Every blemish she scrubbed off, she only felt worse. Her fingertips began to cramp, and she rested for a second. A singular moment to wipe the beads of sweat off her face. His infidelity had left her the hollow shell of the woman she used to be. The person before wouldn't have accepted it, and most certainly wouldn't put up with it.

But this new girl was weak. She was fragile, and could snap as easily as a rubber band.

Their marriage was fine, she reminded herself.

The baby would be fine.

And suddenly, _snap_.

She stood back up, freezing at the warm water that ran down her legs. The smell of Clorox and bleach filled her scent, and she wondered briefly if she had accidentally splashed herself. Her vision blurred, and she stared down at the red droplets that cascaded down her legs.

It would always be her, wouldn't it? The people she cared for, the people that she loved. Whoever controlled the hazy lines between life and death, they _always_ took the one thing that mattered to her the most.

She recalled her childhood before she was able to retain herself, and the memories swept over her bitterly, like all the fond memories had been fogged over and tainted with a hand print. Even at such youthful ages, she had always wanted a child.

She sank to her knees. Her bangs hung over her angular face, which would soon turn gaunt and thin and frail, and she tugged at her hair. She wanted to rip it out from the roots. She wanted to claw her face away until there was nothing left. Nothing meant the agonizing pain would stop, after all. She had never met him, never had his fingers intertwined with hers, but somehow it still hurt. She hadn't expected the pain to be so agonizing, especially for someone whom she had never met in her entire life. He would look just like Martin, with eyes like hers and a chin like hers and a nose like his.

Her blue eyes flickered to the ceiling, shining softly with unshed tears. She was weak, unable to move. The red crimson around her had been warm, but it had shortly turned cold. She scarcely noticed. How long had she been sitting here? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? Time held no meaning in this grey place.

The world she had so carefully woven was tattered, and falling apart at the seams. She had known the risk before they had tried, yet she selfishly proceeded on. She needed to wake up. She pinched herself with trembling, blood stained fingers. Nothing. The redness stained her wrist in a smeary handprint, and she vaguely heard someone screaming in the distance. She wanted to tell them to be quiet, that she _needed_ silence, and she was unable to recognize that the anguished cries were coming from her lips.

Her head lolled, and the hatred and self-loathing grew within her. Startled by this unusual feeling that petered the endless numbness, she bit down roughly on the inside of her cheek so hard that she tasted metallic copper. Tears streaked down her face, but she paid no mind. She couldn't feel anything anymore. She just continued to bleed. It felt like she was swimming through it, sinking into a red world of hopelessness and broken dreams. She heard the soft squeals of a baby crying, (only existent in her dreams, which always seemed to shatter with a singular touch) and she screamed harder and louder.

She fumbled to climb up, her dress stained and torn.

She longed to rip apart the nursery, and burn it to the ground. She wanted to snap. She _needed_ to snap. Her hatred for herself filled her to the brim, threatening to overspill.

The baby cries continued, and so did her tears.

When there finally was blissful silence, Luella Davis composed herself.

She would have to tell Martin. Eventually.

But if Luella told, she'd have to tell him about the two others already buried in the garden.

She glanced out the window. The sunlight seemed almost unfitting for a day like to day. Her eyes narrowed in on the garden as a gust of wind shook the trees.

The white flowers seemed to dance upon her children's graves.

* * *

 **A/N: I decided to do angst week since I hadn't participated in all the other prompts because life and high school and ugh. But I really miss Ghost Hunt. I read a GH fanfiction almost every day, and it was my first anime, so I felt like I had to write for this. Especially the angst prompt. I love angst, and hate fluff. There has to be something wrong with me.**

 **Reviews make me happy!**


	2. Blood

**In response to Snavej's angst week prompts!  
** **Warning: These won't be happy. Like, at all.**

 **Angst Week: (Broken)**

 _"You left and I cried tears of_ **blood** _. My sorrow grows. Its not just that you left. But when you left my eyes went with you. Now, how will I cry?" -Rami_

 **Chapter Two: Blood**

* * *

Gene had always been mesmerized by the stars in the sky. In England, he could scarcely see them through the foggy air. Here, in the crisp air of Japan, away from the city, they shined brighter than ever. He smiled fondly as he stared up, stopping in the middle of the vacant street to simply gawk at them. There was a girl here whom he had met, one that he wished to pursue. There was ambition here, too. Enough to follow the dreams that had always been buried tightly away in his chest. This was his chance. His shot to do better for the world. He missed his past, and wasn't particularly fond of the unknown, but was willing to jump headlong into darkness if that meant coming out happy on the other side.

He shut his eyes momentarily, soaking in the sense of _freedom_ and _beauty_. And then blood. So much blood he could've drowned in it. The car was red, he thought, his chest being crushed as he slammed to the pavement. He would've howled in pain if not for the suffocating pressure building and building on top of his entire being.

He stretched his fingertips out. The ground felt cold and wet. He was trembling, shaking, because this couldn't be happening. He closed his eyes to allow himself a moment to forget. All that he could see behind his closed lashes was a thick red. The car was red. The light of her blinding headlights still shone brightly on his face, so fiercely that he began to forget himself. A car door slammed. Eugene almost smiled ironically from how much this woman seemed to adore the color red. Her dress was red. Her car was red. Her long heels were red.

And now he was too.

He stretched his fingertips up, wishing he could touch the stars that he could still see. Wishing to become one of them, if only to escape this inescapable pain. They provided little comfort, and he wished his brother could be with him. Noll. He could still see him again, couldn't he? His twin _needed_ him, like a fish needed water. And in spite of Gene's usual grudgingness to spend time with Noll, and his countless denial, Gene needed him. He needed him more than Oliver could ever possibly know. They needed each other, almost as if they were two halves to a whole. He couldn't leave his little brother all alone to face this cruel world and smothering restrictions without him. A low, pained wail escaped his mouth. It was overtaken by a gurgle as blood splattered out, trickling down his chin. His pain blinded him. The redness that splashed over his vision blinded him.

It was a rarity, but Gene Davis began to cry. Whether they be salty tears or gentle raindrops of blood, he didn't know and couldn't bring himself to care. He felt like he was just slipping away. The stars didn't even dim from his circumstance, didn't even pay attention. Gene wondered if they even could see him from so far away, and if his glances were merely one sided and never reciprocated.

His entire body was trembling, shaking with a sheer amount of force he didn't know he had.

The woman was walking agonizingly slow towards him, her breathing panicked, while his chest was frayed. She touched his shoulder. He groaned loudly from the pain. Of course, her fingernails were painted crimson, nearly identical to the blood that seeped from him with her touch. His dark shirt was ripped and torn, and he was soaked to bone with red.

He felt his hope spike when she walked back to her car, perhaps to call and get help. _He could still grow up. He could see Noll again. He could have the life he wanted so desperately to have._ She started the car, and he coughed, faltering.

The car drove over his body.

She backed it up after the first time. He thought his torture was over, that he could just be left in the freezing streets to die. That he could have the red eradicated from his vision completely.

She ran him over again, possessing cruelty he could never comprehend. _Why_? He whispered hoarsely into the night. _Why him?_ His question went unheard of and unanswered. At least he could barely feel anymore. Still somehow conscious, still living, but gratefully now just cold, chilled to the bone.

His hope was crushed, just like his body. Gene's dreams shattered into shards, too tiny to jam the pieces back together.

Even when he was sinking into the depths of the water, he could somehow see the stars through the water. Eventually, they were evaded from his vision as a red blanket draped over his eye line.

The vision eventually morphed into a hazy green, and the event that had occurred ended like a broken disk. Done, but still somehow playing. Over and over in his mind. A week later and thousand of miles away in England, Oliver Davis held his brother's dress shirt. He trembled with anger as he tried to keep the screams of anguish from tumbling from his lips. He glanced down at the shirt he clutched. Tears were brimming in his eyes. A blue that was once cold and unapproachable had now turned vulnerable and childlike.

And, of course, the dress shirt was blood red.

Noll threw up.


	3. I could never

**In response to Snavej's angst week prompts!  
Warning: These won't be happy. Like, at all. **

**Angst Week: (Broken)**

 _"I wonder what I look like through your eyes?"_

 **Chapter Three: I could never:**

* * *

 _I could never love you._

It wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming. He was a cold man. A kind man often, that was true, but in a different way. He regarded feelings, and if he didn't reciprocate them, he was blunt and curt and _honest_. She sank to her knees in the cold apartment, unsure of what could possibly happen next. Maybe it was some kind of sick mercy, in a way. Putting her out of her love struck misery. No more longing over him. No more nights where she laid in bed thinking about how brave and noble and _perfect_ Kazuya Shibuya truly was. He had snapped the cord between them quickly, although it hadn't been painless. Quite the opposite, really. Her red rimmed eyes were a prime example of this. And now, with her lights still flickered off, she was wondering which had been worse. The doubt or the aftermath. The insecurities or the truth. The one sided love or the banishment.

She briefly noted if it even mattered. He was gone, taking away a piece of her with him. Probably glancing at her love for him offhandedly, before placing it away. He wasn't cruel, however, no matter how contrary that was to popular belief. Naru – Oliver Davis – had tucked her heart away in a safe place. Perhaps some days he would revisit that memory and be reminded of his brown haired assistant. Aside from that, she would remain as nothing more than a dwindling memory. A girl he used to know. A friend he had once cherished, time and time again. And when he returned – if he returned, she reminded herself bitterly – things would still be the same.

But she was unsure.

 _I could never love you._

A burning resentment was beginning to grow, smothered and restricted. She gave out a hoarse cry of anger, kicking the counter in front of her. Her shoe rattled against it, and she flinched from the loud sound that echoed. He had rejected her. He had embarrassed her. He had lied and said he was someone he wasn't. He was not Kazuya Shibuya; formal yet understanding Kazuya, but Oliver Davis, elusive in the world of the paranormal. She tried to remind herself that they were the same person, but she couldn't. Not just yet. One was the man she loved. The other was simply a disdainful stranger.

Her cheeks flushed with anger. With rage. With scathing hatred and annoyance. _How dare he?_ How could he leave her like this, alone and shattered on the floor? Was he the tin man then, missing a heart? Missing compassion? Missing love? Somehow that theory sounded better than the real one. That he was capable of love, (that could be seen clearly towards his twin brother) but yet he could never love Mai in the way that he wished. And after his rant was finished, he had stated with sincerity that it didn't matter anyway. That her tears didn't matter. That her love didn't matter, because it somehow belonged to someone else. Someone that she didn't know, but yet did. Someone that visited her almost every night in her dreams, donning a blinding smile. And Naru had the audacity to push her love to the side. She wanted to scream in that moment. To just allow herself to release _everything_ , in that very moment. To wreck havoc on her small, unsuspecting apartment. She wanted to tear the wallpaper off. She wanted to knock the dishes into the floor. She wanted to break the windows. She seethed, breathing heavily.

 _I could never love you._

Mai's rage faded, and she broke down into tears. It wasn't his fault. It could never be his fault. He had just spoken the truth that she had refused to hear. That she had fallen in love with his deceased twin brother, that her love for him couldn't be true. And even if he was mistaken, even if Mai had chosen Naru in that instance, he could never love her back because he could never think of her that way. That he considered her akin to a sister, to a dear friend. _Family_. Somehow his pitying rejection had left her worn down, conflicted, and weary all at once. She sank further into the floor, rocking back and forth, hot tears seeping through her eyes and trailing down her legs. Black and blurry dots danced upon her vision, and she blinked a few times to clear her eyesight. She could scarcely breath. She wished she could take her words back, wished she had never said them in the first place -wished that everything could go back to the way it was.

Back to the time when she felt safe and secure and hopeful.

Sometimes all at once.

She unrolled the photograph in her clenched hand. It was crinkled from the sheer force of her fist, and she choked down another sob. It was nearly destroyed. Tear stains had dampened it, and it was bent at the corners. She went to carefully unfolding the ball, bawling even as she saw the comforting smiles from the two twins.

 _Oliver and Eugene Davis,_ had been scrawled on the back in blue ink.

 _I could never love you._

 _I could never love you._

 _I could never love you._

It played over and over in her mind, almost like a broken record. She couldn't stop herself from reliving every word spoken in those woods.

Mai couldn't help but feel that maybe it was easier if he loved someone else. That he was dismissing her out of love rather than the absence of it. But he didn't have someone else. She knew he would be resting alone in bed when he eventually got around to sleeping.

 _This is torture,_ she thought with a waning smile. _I should just kill myself._

Of course she would never do such a thing. The photograph lay limp in her trembling hands.

But she was addicted to him. Every moment without him gave her pain, and that pain was amplified with the realization that her entire life would be without him. It would never be enough to hold him at arm's length. She would always need more of him. Selfishly so. Righteously so.

"Naru…" she whispered brokenly to the darkness. She curled up on her bed, pulling the covers numbly around her.

The knowledge that Naru's bed would be as cold as hers brought little comfort.

She would always love him.

 _I could never love you._


	4. in the rain

**In response to Snavej's angst week prompts!  
Warning: These wont' be happy. Like, at all.**

 **Angst Week (Broken):**

 _"What if the storm ends, and I don't see you?  
_ _And leaves us nothing, except a memory, a distant echo.  
_ _I want pinned down, I want unsettled. Rattle cage after cage until my blood boils.  
I want to see you  
_ _As you are now." -Snow Patrol_

 **Chapter Four: In the rain**

* * *

The rain chilled her to the bone. She was trembling furiously, but couldn't bring herself to move from her position. The edges of her kimono were torn, soaked in mud, and her raven tendrils sopped with water. She curled her knees up to her chest. She never wanted to feel warmth again. Without his touch, nothing mattered. Her existence would forever revolve around an emptiness that she would be unable to fill. She swallowed. The rain continued to drip down, fiercely now. It pounded against the earth, and it sounded like cannons going off in her ears. She needed him. She didn't know if she would ever feel the same way again, and she wasn't certain if she should.

He had been hypnotic. Electric. He had accepted her brandish personality, accepted her coldness, and in turn had offered his warmth. He had the brightest smile she had ever seen. It had been sheer blindness, and it had irritated her, but now that it was gone…

She wanted nothing more than to be blinded yet again by his smile. She needed to see the way his blue eyes lit up along with it. She needed to see his pale skin reflected in the drain drops. She needed to see him, and when she did, she would tell him how she felt. She would scold him for how _stupid_ he had been for getting himself hurt. She would hug him tightly, squeeze nearly the very life of him, latch on and never let go. She would press feverish kisses to his cheeks, to his lips, healing the psychological wounds that were untouchable with a singular touch. She would kiss the pain away, and her skin would be blistered by his sunlight. It would hurt, but she hardly cared. She wanted nothing more than to be burned by him, to dissolve into ash, just to see that smile. Just to see his sunlight.

The numbness ached in her chest.

She wanted to touch him. She wanted to grasp at his arm, claw at it, beg him never to leave.

The first time they had met, he had teased her. She had hated him for it. Her stale eyes stared off into the storm. She wanted him to tease her relentlessly again. She wanted him to hold her in his firm arms, and whisper that he was back. That it had been an accident, but that he was back, and that he had been saved.

She needed that desperately. She would kill for that fantasy. She would tear herself apart to live in that world.

But reality.

At the realization, tears welled up in her arms.

She wouldn't cry for him.

She couldn't bare it.

The thundered, echoing a scream she so longed to release.

Her lips were blue.

Her fingertips were like ice.

But she waited.

She waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until she finally heard his voice, and when she did, it nearly sucked the very breath from her lungs.

"Masako."

She sank into the rain, crying and trembling. He couldn't touch her. Couldn't do anything but blather apologies.

It continued to rain, and she broke in the midst of it.

. . .

"Thank you for working on this case, Ms. Hara." His voice was cold, not warm. When he smiled, it wasn't blinding, and it didn't reach his eyes. It didn't fill her with warmth. It didn't fill her with love and joy.

"It's not a problem. Would you like to attend dinner with me afterwards?"

But she would keep trying until she was no longer broken.

She would keep trying to get the sound of rain from her mind.

She would keep trying until she could see the sun yet again.

* * *

 **A/N: AU where Masako somehow met Gene before she met Naru. I'm finishing the challenge a little later than expected, but high school...and life... and Nanowrimo.**

 **Review?**


	5. Terminal

**In response to Snavej's angst week prompts!  
** **Warning: These wont' be happy. Like, at all.**

 **Angst Week (Broken):**

 _"Maybe it's not about a happy ending._ _Maybe it's about the story."_

 **Chapter Five: Terminal**

* * *

 _ **ter·mi·nal**_

 _ **ˈtərmənl/**_

 _ **adjective**_

 _ **1\. 1.**_

 _ **of, forming, or situated at the end or extremity of something.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

 _ **.**_

It doesn't end quietly.

It ends as loud as an eruption. It ends as loud as a hurricane, an earthquake. It ends as loud as the water rippling around the lake. It's stupid of him to even consider the prospect that he might still be alive. His fingertips tighten around the railing. It's a beautiful day. It really is. Mai had offhandedly commented something like that hours prior. Oliver never has time to appreciate the weather or the sun, but he does now. He's shaking, and he hopes the others don't notice. Lin is talking to the men clearing the lake, but he keeps glancing in Noll's direction. It makes him angry.

It's over. It's over. He's found Gene. He's found him.

All that does is surge fire into his bones. His body wracks with sobs and tears that he smothers back. He doesn't need their pity. He doesn't want to see all their eyes shine with that emotion. He doesn't want Takigawa to lay a hesitant hand on his shoulder, with the purpose of steadying his trembling frame. He detests the idea of Mai looking at him like he's _broken_. Oliver now has a terrible taste on his tongue, and he craves nothing but the warmth of tea. The warmth in his brother's eyes. He visibly winces at the thought. So much time has passed where he forced himself not to think about him. But now, it's all coming back. Like a dam that had been broken. He's Oliver Davis. There's nothing that he can't accomplish. Nothing that he can't solve.

(But he can't solve _this_ )

Tears well up, but he blinks them back. Hard. He feels so helpless as they search the lake. Maybe they won't find Gene because –

Stupid. How stupid of him. Those hopeful thoughts would bring nothing but disappointment.

Because Noll knows.

He knows Gene is dead.

He knows that there is nothing in the world that could ever bring him back to him

He knows that he failed to save his brother.

He's saved so many others, but he couldn't save the one person that had mattered most to him—

That still matters to him.

He chokes on his own breath as he tries to heave.

He had let him die.

He had been too balled up in his envy (because why would they let him go to Japan and not _him_ ) to even notice that something was wrong. To even bother with a phone call. Blood is pounding in his ears. The logic that he so often follows is ignored. Because it's not anyone's fault but _his_.

He never got a chance to say goodbye.

He expected something more than this. He grasps the railing tighter. Tighter. Tighter. He wills for the rusted metal within his grasp to bend and break. Nothing happens. He twists it. His knuckles are shaking. He stares over. His reflection stares back at him, lips curved into a tight frown. His expression is shielded from the rest of his world by his dark bangs. He can feel their eyes on him from a distance. Burning. Questioning. Hurt. He ignores their stares, but they only shatter him even more. He doesn't want to be stared at like some bendable, breakable person. He's Oliver Davis. He's stronger than life.

He lets out an uncertain breath.

He survived his mother's abuse.

He survived the cold, damp, bleak orphanage.

He survived.

But not alone. He had needed Gene. And now he needs Gene again, like a starving man for food. He craves his carefree smile, his scathing remarks, and his ability to make unfeeling Naru smile in even the darkest of places. They were two sides to the same coin, and now –

Now he was broke without him.

Lost.

Disabled.

The explosions dim down. He's not left with smoke from the battlefield, but an icy blanket that seems to wrap tighter and tighter around him. It threatens to suffocate him, and he sucks in a raspy breath. Green. All he sees is green. Red. Blood red. Thick red. Nail polish. A dress. A dress shirt. Everything blurs together like a faded television. He wants to go back. He needs to go back. The silence threatens to destroy him.

They pull a body from the lake. It doesn't even look like him. There's dark hair, but only little tufts remain. His body is blue, green, and grey all at the same time— and bloated. Very bloated. His eyes are sagged in. There are missing pieces to his skin. His stomach churns. He walks towards them. Past Lin. Past Mai. Past everyone that tries to stop him.

"Are you up to identifying him, Shibuya?"

Such a simple question. He nods. There's sympathy in their eyes, pity, and he wants for their stares to go away. They wrap him in a bag, zippering him up, but stopping at the head. He stares down. It's not his reflection anymore. They're not identical any longer.

He dares to breathe again. His expression goes stony.

He lifts the tarp up with firm fingers.

It's not him.

It can't be him.

The dead body in front of him looks nothing like his twin. There's no smile, no bright eyes, no charm— only the remains of a useless body that had been underwater for far, far too long. He's seen worse bodies than this, but— it's different. It's vastly different. The eyes aren't closed, but open. And although they're hollowed over by slime and blood and the small chomp marks of fish— it's that same cobalt blue that always seemed to light up the sky. And his stomach sinks. He knows. This is it. The end. It's over.

He nods again, numbly. The blanket is over him still. His knees shake, but he manages to turn and walk away from them. From _Gene_.

"Naru?"

A voice breaks in from the fog.

Mai's eyes are big and brown. Questioning. Fearful. Worried. Her hand is touching his shoulder, and he stiffens underneath her.

"Start looking for another job, Mai."

He's never sounded so cold.

And he shrugs her off.

And he keeps walking, because there can be no happy endings for a broken man.

* * *

 **A/N: And ta-da! It's completed. (Not late at all :P) I feel like this chapter was a little too cliche, but I don't know. And I feel kind of guilty, because I completely left Ayako and Takigawa and John out without their own depressing stories. In my opinion, they are as important as Mai and Naru. With chapter four, I really, really wanted to do one with Masako. I just feel like she gets so much unnecessary hate. Okay. So she blackmails Naru. I guess that's reason enough, but I do think she's a rather lonely character. And c'mon, you guys wouldn't blackmail Naru into going on dates with you? Pffft...**

 **Hopefully everyone enjoyed it! Thanks for all your reviews!**

 **(Now go read some happy Mai/Naru fluff)**


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